Michael Tymn points me to this interview with the founder of the "guerrilla skepticism" movement, which rewrites Wikipedia pages to remove "woo" and related abominations. I don't think these efforts amount to much; to the extent that Wiki becomes known for the one-sided presentation of controversies, it will simply become less of a resource for people who want to make up their own minds.

In fact, I think this is already happening. Increasingly, when people cite Wiki in an online argument, the riposte is that Wiki is too biased to be a credible source. This is true of controversies in general (politics, legal battles, scientific disputes, etc.), not just the paranormal.

An online encyclopedia edited by pretty much anybody does have some value, but it will never be authoritative, because the people behind it are not authorities.

One statement in the interview stood out for me:

I enjoy finding pages that look like the “psychic” wrote it themselves and then I come in with the delete button. It is really a powerful feeling.

Admittedly, it's a violation of Wiki policies for a person to write about himself, but notice that the Wiki editor merely thinks the page "looks like" it was written by the psychic. It may not have been; who knows?

Nevertheless, hitting that delete button is "really a powerful feeling."

As regular readers of this blog know, there's a variety of evidence suggestive of the survival of consciousness after death. Some lines of evidence, of course, are more persuasive than others, but when you look at the totality of the research, it's fascinating to see how the various investigations all converge on the same conclusion.

Among these lines of evidence are near-death experiences, out-of-body experiences, apparitions and hauntings, spontaneous after-death communications and induced after-death communications, mediumship, spontaneous memories of past lives reported by young children, alleged memories of past lives or of an existence between lives reported by hypnotized adults, and electronic voice phenomena. This is not a complete list. I'm sure I've left out a few things.

Again, I'm not saying that all of these lines of inquiry are equally compelling; for instance, hypnotic regression can be very problematic because hypnotized subjects have a known tendency to confabulate. And a lot of electronic voice phenomena sound more like random noise than actual voices, at least to me. Still, when we draw back and look at the big picture, I think that only two alternatives can reasonably explain the totality of the evidence.

The first and most obvious explanation is that consciousness really does survive death, at least for a while, and in some cases it reincarnates.

The second possible explanation is that there is some kind of cosmic conspiracy afoot – a concerted effort by the collective subconscious of mankind, or by deceitful demons, or by some other preternatural force – a conspiracy to convince us that we survive death when we really don't.

The non-materialist alternatives to survival all fall broadly into this second category. Advocates of super-psi (or super ESP) are basically saying that unknown powers of the subconscious mind are deceiving us in order to allay our fears about our own mortality. Some religious fundamentalists say that mediumship and near-death experiences are the work of the devil, intended to tempt us into straying from orthodoxy.

Now, the thing about conspiracy theories is that they are impossible to disprove. It doesn't matter how much evidence you can gather that seems to call the alleged conspiracy into question; the devoted conspiracy theorist will simply tell you that that evidence itself is part of the conspiracy. For instance, some people believe that the Apollo moon landings were faked on a TV soundstage. If you point out to them that astronomers all over the world tracked the progress of the Apollo spacecraft, they will tell you that those astronomers were all in on the conspiracy. If you point out that moon rocks were returned from the lunar surface and analyzed by experts, they will tell you that those experts were also part of the conspiracy. And so on. The more evidence you present, the bigger the conspiracy must be, but this is not a problem for the conspiracy theorist, who actually likes the idea that he is a lone voice of truth and sanity fighting against overwhelming odds.

I'm not saying, of course, that conspiracies never take place. Obviously, there have been conspiracies in history. For instance, there was a conspiracy to assassinate Julius Caesar. But it did not remain secret for long, and it did not involve a prohibitively large number of people. There was a kind of conspiracy to prevent the public from knowing too much about Franklin Roosevelt's handicap while he was in office, and to prevent the public from learning that John Kennedy's marriage was basically a sham. Again, though, these conspiracies involved a limited number of insiders and were eventually brought to light.

The trouble with conspiracy theories as all-encompassing explanations is that not only can they never be disproved, but also they breed a sense of helplessness, passivity, and cynicism. If the whole world is out to get us, then there's probably nothing we can do about it except despair.

When we come to an idea like super-psi, we find a conspiracy theory that is even more impossible to disprove than the usual ones. By definition, super-psi potentially involves everybody's subconscious – every thought and every feeling that anybody has ever had or ever will have. You can't get much bigger than that! If the combined resources of the subconscious minds of all human beings are involved in an elaborate charade, and if those heretofore unrecognized resources are vastly greater than we have ever suspected, then the resulting conspiracy is capable of producing literally any evidence necessary and suppressing any contrary evidence.

This doesn't mean merely that we can never learn the truth about life after death. It means we can never know the truth about anything. We cannot trust our own minds, since at the deepest level they are intent on fooling us. We cannot trust anybody's perceptions, including our own. If we take super-psi seriously, or for that matter if we believe that any evidence that contradicts our belief system is manufactured by devils to test our faith or by soul-eating "hungry ghosts" to numb us for the slaughter or by space aliens who are putting us through our paces in a giant Habitrail, then we have no possible way of using our rational faculty and empirical evidence to arrive at truth.

What it comes down to is this. Assuming that we find the overall evidence for postmortem survival to be reasonably convincing, and not capable of being entirely explained away as mistaken observation, hoaxes, flimflam, urban legends, wishful thinking, etc., then we face a basic choice. We can take the evidence at face value, on the assumption that the universe is essentially benign and that our minds are, in principle, capable of discerning the truth about things. Or we can assume that the evidence is the result of a giant con job, in which case the universe is essentially malign and our conscious, reasoning minds are, in principle, incapable of knowing any part of the truth.

I concede that there is no way to definitively decide between these two alternatives. To some extent it depends on whether our outlook on existence is basically optimistic or pessimistic. Is the universe friendly, or is it out to get us? Is life an adventure or a nightmare? Is there room for trust, or only for fear?

It comes down to what William James called "the will to believe," meaning our willingness to take a leap of faith at a point when ratiocination can go no further. We each have to take that leap, in one direction or the other, for ourselves.

Typepad has been hit with some distributed denial of service attacks which have put some blogs offline and fouled up the posting and commenting on others. Until the problem is fixed, this blog may be offline at certain times, and comments may take longer than usual to post.

Today I came across a short article on a science site arguing that thinking about one's own mortality may actually improve mental health. This interested me, in part because of the frequently heard objection that thinking about death (or life after death) is inherently depressing and a sign of an unhealthy obsession.

The article's author, Nathan Heflick, seems to take it for granted that death equals personal extinction:

... everything and everyone we value, everything we cherish, could just vanish at any moment ... An awareness of our own death is potentially extremely distressing because it renders you aware that you are, ultimately, no more significant than food sources and animals, or as [one expert] put it: “lizards and potatoes”.

Even when approached from this rather materialistic perspective, writing and thinking about death can apparently be beneficial:

James Pennebaker, a psychology professor at the University of Texas, has conducted studies in which people wrote about deeply emotional – and hence often distressing – topics over the course of weeks or months. His work generally found that these writing exercises increased mental, and even physical, health ...

Irvin Yalom, a clinical psychologist who deals with existential issues, has also written about how contemplating mortality on a deeper level can have positive psychological effects. He has argued specifically that people who accept and face death develop a more “authentic” life in which their behaviour and goals more align with their values.

Heflick himself has conducted a small study in which college students "write about death or another aversive topic each day for one week, or they just reply to specific questions in an email each day on which they have to spend five to ten minutes – one example they’ve been asked to reflect on is that if you’re aware life is short and that you could die sooner than you think, how does it make you feel and how does it impact you in general?"

Later they answer a questionnaire that assesses their feelings. The research "suggests that there are positive psychological effects to writing about mortality. Specifically, participants who are in the repeated death writing group have been reporting lower levels of depression, increased positive mood, increased self-esteem and increased intrinsic motivation."

In addition, there's some evidence that study participants feel more forgiving toward others and more willing to attempt reconciliation. "Interestingly, many of these effects occur only in individuals who have moderate levels of depressive symptoms going into the study (though well below clinical levels). It appears then that the mildly depressed may benefit most from a deeper reflection on their own mortality."

Many of history's deepest and most creative thinkers devoted close attention to the subject of their own mortality - think of Socrates and Plato, Augustine and Boethius, Shakespeare and Tolstoy. It shouldn't be too surprising to find they were on to something.

F. Scott Fitzgerald famously said, "The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposing ideas in mind at the same time and still retain the ability to function." Whether or not this is true, lately I've found myself holding two opposing ideas in my mind, and I'm not sure there's any good way to resolve them. Both involve a fundamental question, the meaning and purpose of life.

Here's one idea. Life is all about learning to do the right thing. Its ultimate purpose is moral growth, which translates into spiritual growth.

Much evidence can be cited in support of this idea. For instance, the life review in a near-death experience typically entails reliving one's choices and seeing (even feeling) how those choices affected other people, for better or worse. Though condemnation is not part of the life review, there is usually a sense of judgment, in which the NDEr determines which choices were right and which were wrong. The standard of value seems to be the genuine love that one has felt for other people; choices based on sincere love are rated correct, while choices grounded in resentment, envy, hatred, etc. are rated incorrect.

There is also a major tradition in spiritualism stating that some spirits do not develop a sufficient moral sense to advance to the next life, and must remain, at least for a while, in an earthbound state, hovering in a twilight zone between incarnate and discarnate life. These (temporarily) lost souls may impose a malign influence on people on earth, and they often show up as low-level communicators in seances. They seem especially drawn to the Ouija board, which is why casual experimentation with the Ouija is discouraged by many psychically sensitive people.

The idea that good and evil, right and wrong, are an integral part of existence is found in the major Western religions - all the Abrahamic faiths (Judaism, Christianity, Islam). The idea of evil or confused spirits is also found in nearly all folk traditions around the world.

So that's one way of looking at it. It seems to make sense, and it is consistent with much of the evidence and with longstanding belief systems.

Now here's another idea. Earthly life is essentially a game - a drama played out by a cosmic Mind. It is, as Roger Ebert reportedly said not long before he died, "an elaborate hoax." God, which is universal Oneness, splits itself into many disparate identities or personas, and these personas are allowed to act out their loves and hatreds, their comedies and tragedies, on the great stage of physical reality - which is only a backdrop, ultimately no more real than the virtual reality environment of a computer game.

The purpose of life, in this scenario, is simply to provide a variety of experiences by which God can know itself. The experiences may be good or bad, ecstatic or painful; it makes no difference. In fact, a certain amount of suffering and tragedy is necessary to ensure maximum diversity and maximum drama. Just as a novel needs a villain, the ongoing earthly spectacle requires villainous behavior in order to maintain interest, test people's limits, and allow for suspense and surprise.

According to this view, there is nothing really good or bad, right or wrong. Life, seen from this perspective, is beyond good and evil. As Jenny Wade puts it in her book Changes of Mind when describing the purportedly highest state of consciousness (called "Unity Consciousness"): "Only correct options exist."

There's a lot to recommend this view also. For one thing, it explains why suffering and pain are so prevalent in life. It can provide the comfort of believing that life's dramas are not to be taken entirely seriously, since the whole show is, in the end, "an elaborate hoax."

And there is some evidence to support it. If we look again at near-death experiences, we see that NDErs often report merging with a pure white light, and that in this state of fusion they feel at one with everything, and they see that everything is perfect and right. All human judgments are rendered irrelevant, merely so much chatter.

People who've had experiences of "cosmic consciousness" (mystical transport) often feel the same way. "All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well," said Julian of Norwich after such an episode.

This perspective seems to be represented in the major Eastern religions and philosophies, which see life as an endless series of rebirths into new narratives, all of which are ultimately illusory. It also seems consistent with Gnostic teachings, and with the teachings of mystics in general, including popular writers like Eckhart Tolle.

Both viewpoints have a lot to offer. The trouble is, they appear to be contradictory, even mutually exclusive.

The first outlook presupposes moral judgment. The second obviates moral judgment.

The first outlook says that the choices made in this life are of vital importance. The second says that all choices are correct; there are no bad options.

The first outlook says that the departed will either graduate to a higher plane or remain earthbound, depending on their degree of spiritual advancement. The second says that all of us are only parts of a greater whole and we will be seamlessly reconstituted with that greater whole upon death.

Is it possible to reconcile these alternatives? Well ... maybe. It could be argued that each position contains part of the truth. Here's one possible way of harmonizing these scenarios.

Let's say that physical reality is indeed an elaborate hoax, a kind of game in which good and bad personas are arrayed against each other to provide drama and conflict. In such a game, bad people and bad choices are clearly necessary. But arguably it does not follow that bad choices are cost-free.

Maybe the game was set up in the knowledge that circumstances and free will would inevitably conspire to make some players behave in destructive and malicious ways. This behavior would lead to considerable pain and suffering, but this was not a problem for the game's designer, who has always been more concerned about the learning opportunities the game affords.

The near-death experience allows the players to detach themselves from the game. From this vantage point (fusion with the white light) they can see that it is a charade, and that pain and suffering do not matter. That is part of the truth. But the NDE also allows the players to undergo a life review. In this experience they learn about the right and wrong choices they made in playing the game - and while the game itself is not important, those choices are important, because they reflect the growth and development of the soul.

In other words, while the game isn't to be taken seriously in itself, the choices made while playing the game are of more lasting consequence, and can affect one's immediate postmortem fate, with players who failed to learn the appropriate lessons being suspended between earth and heaven for a time, unable to advance.

With this compromise position in mind, let's reassess the claims made by each side.

Life is all about learning to do the right thing. Its ultimate purpose is moral growth, which translates into spiritual growth. This would be true.

The standard of value is the genuine love that one has felt for other people; choices based on sincere love are rated correct, while choices grounded in resentment, envy, hatred, etc. are rated incorrect. True.

Some spirits do not develop a sufficient moral sense to advance to the next life, and must remain, at least for a while, in an earthbound state. True.

Earthly life is essentially a game - a drama played out by a cosmic Mind, "an elaborate hoax." True.

The purpose of life is simply to provide a variety of experiences by which God can know itself. Not quite true, since the deeper purpose is spiritual training and advancement; however, true in the sense that God (spirit) does get to "know itself" only via this training.

The experiences may be good or bad, ecstatic or painful; it makes no difference. True in the sense that earthly suffering is too ephemeral to matter in the long run; but misleading if it suggests that moral choices don't matter.

There is nothing really good or bad, right or wrong. Life is beyond good and evil. "Only correct options exist." True from the perspective of a spectator observing the drama; not true for the player, who faces a real, and meaningful, test of character with every important moral choice.

Maybe this is a way of reconciling the two opposing paradigms. But I'm not convinced. To me, it's not really satisfactory. It's not as neat and clear-cut as either of the paradigms individually. It lacks the elegant simplicity of either approach, though it does seem to include more of the data.

In the end, I'm not sure quite how to combine these opposing ideas. The solution to the problem is probably both simpler and less obvious than the clumsy jerry-built answer I've come up with. What it is, I can't say.

Also, Matt Rouge points me to this Cracked essay by someone who had (or may have had) an NDE and didn't think very much of it.

Actually his so-called NDE sounds more like a fairly conventional hallucination. He seems to have been in physical pain even during the experience, which is not at all typical of NDEs. He had no OBE, no life review, no encounters with deceased persons or a Being of Light, etc.

If typical NDEs were this unimpressive, the phenomenon would be of limited interest. Still, his brush with death does seem to have helped him to put the problems of everyday life into perspective, and he says he has no fear of death anymore.